1 life changing thought, 12 life changing seconds

This post is written by Sharon, a friend I have met online via Twitter. I contacted her and asked if she would share her experience as a woman in a heavily male dominated sport. Sharon is a rider from the the Northwest Indiana/Chicagoland area. She agreed, and here is what she had to say:

As I’m standing in a field, looking at a used toy hauler, for the purpose of taking to the drag strip in Kentucky next year, it hit me: “You are a 43 year old Mother of a 22 year old, and THIS is your midlife crisis!” In a matter of a few short years, I went from saying “one day I’d like to get a motorcycle license, just to say I have one”, to not just riding the fastest production model bike that Harley Davidson makes, but racing it down a drag strip.

My Dad introduced me to riding when I was very young. He sat me in front of him, and took me for rides. It scared the heck out of me sometimes, but I kept going back for more. My Dad was only around for the first 6-7 years of my life due to a bitter divorce, but he did have an impact on me. One of the few things I remember was a neighborhood boy who was always hitting me, so my Dad told me “then hit him back harder”. I did, with a bottle! That may well have been the beginning of my competitive mindset. As a youngster growing up I hung around with mostly boys, and developed an “if they can do it, so can I” philosophy. And if anyone told me I couldn’t do something, I was bound and determined to prove them wrong. My competitive nature was created as a very young child, and honed as an adult while learning TaeKwonDo, and achieving a 3rd degree Black Belt and competing in tournaments. I have since retired, having had several knee surgeries, so I suppose it makes sense that I’ve found something new to compete in.

I would never have imagined myself where I am right now when I took my first Rider’s Edge course at the local Harley dealer a few years ago. I always said I wanted to have a bike license, but was happy to be a passenger. A few years ago, my Mom passed away at a young age. It was by far the most difficult time in my life. For the first Mother’s Day after her passing, I decided to find something to do that would take my mind off of how much it hurt. Coincidentally, the Rider’s Edge course’s first class was on Mother’s Day, so I jumped on it. Having never ridden anything other than a snowmobile, I completely and totally sucked, and was the worst one in the class. I did get my license, but did not feel confident, so I practiced for a couple months on a little 1 cylinder Buell Blast. One day, at a dealer, I sat on this beautiful all black V-rod, and it felt as if it fit me like a glove. The rest, as they say, is history. A few short years later, I’ve managed to put 19,000 miles on her, and I have much more confidence.

Over the summer I managed a road trip to visit some friends who were drag racing in Kentucky. I was impressed with the women riders at the event. They were doing well, and having fun. So, the little voice in my head said “If they can, you can.” For the next couple months, I researched information and collected advice on launching and racing. As a female, I didn’t want to be looked down on, and with such a competitive nature, I wanted to be impressive right from the get go. I didn’t want spectators to think ‘there goes a girl trying to race’, I wanted them to think ‘holy cow, THAT was a girl??” So I did a lot of goofing around on the backroads, but that can’t compare to real track time. I went to a few test & tunes at the local track, and I was totally afraid and nervous. It turned out ok, because there really wasn’t any ‘competition’ with no races happening, and nothing at stake. Of course, I did get put next to a big dragster once, and a few ‘crotch rockets’ that totally blew my ‘doors off’. But it was all a lesson in tuning the other guy out, and with each trip down the ¼ mile, I learned a little bit more.

The practice helped me learn a lot, and I had great helpers to teach me and guide me. There’s so much to remember and do in a matter of 12 short seconds. And you can’t change a bunch of things at a time, so it’s all about trial, error, and experience. The only problem was I had less than 2 months to prepare for my first real drag race, and that first race was to happen at the AMRA National Finals. Talk about baptism by fire!

At first I was afraid that I would look silly, or that the other riders would look down on me. I was scared out of my mind and wanted to delay even practicing until the very last minute. But, I took a deep breath, put on my gear, and made the ride down to the staging area, all the while thinking about the potential consequences of the power that I was about to unleash. I did my ‘big dog’ self talk. That’s where I feel like maybe I’m in over my head, and I take a breath, and tell myself, “you wanted to do this, don’t you dare back out now. You want to ride with the big dogs, don’t get back on that porch.” And I took my first run. It wasn’t so bad. I’d done better in practice, but I’d done worse too. Whew, what a relief! I did a few more practice runs, then it was time for qualifying. I entered two elimination divisions, so I had a lot of trips down the track. At one point I saw the rider just before me almost lose the bike, it swerved so far off course they almost hit the wall. I did not need to see that just now. Another big dog self talk for me.

The next day was race day. I qualified well enough for one event. That was fine with me, as they day before had taken it’s toll on me. I had a moment where I thought ok, I ran down the track at the AMRA’s, I could be satisfied with that and go home. I made myself stay, and I’m glad I did. I was honestly impressed with the camaraderie and support that I experienced on race day. So many people giving me thumbs up and fist bumps, and asking how I was doing. I really felt at home. I never expected to experience a family feeling at such a competitive event. I’m so glad I stayed. My first real ‘do or die’ race was nerve wracking. Deep breath, roll forward, light up the staging lights, and GO! It felt pretty good through the whole ¼ mile, made it to the end, rode to get my results ticket, then back to the pit. An agonizing couple minutes having the times in my hand but unable to read it until I stopped. When I got to the pit the ‘gang’ was smiling. Did I win my first race? NO WAY! I did, holy cow! I don’t think my grin could have been any bigger if I tried! I get to race again! My second pass felt great, and I did beat the guy next to me, only I broke out (went too fast for my set time). So, I was eliminated in the 2nd round. That’s ok, I didn’t really think I would get that far, and every ¼ mile is a learning experience. There’s a lot to learn, and a lot to remember and apply in a short 12 seconds…or less. And I’m learning it all ¼ mile at a time. My biggest lessons and milestones thus far, the other racers aren’t looking down on me, they’re cheering me along, I have more confidence with every riding experience I get, I am one determined woman, and I am now totally addicted and want to go back for more, and I’ve been honored and privileged to have been featured in this article, and in East Coast Biker online magazine’s August issue… and THAT is how I found myself standing in a field realizing I’m in the midst of my mid-life crisis. Thank you to all for your interest, and support, and I’m looking forward to future experiences and success!